Shack
by tall oaks
Summary: Severus Snape didn’t trust Sirius Black, yet he entered the Shrieking Shack all the same. What was it that Black said that made Snape enter the tunnel?The Headmaster interviews those involved and discovers some uncomfortable truths during his investigatio
1. The Escape

This story is an early Christmas present to Cecelle. Without her friendship, support, and patient proofreading, this story would have been a gigantic mess. I also thank Vaughn for urging me to go ahead with this story idea.

I purposely have waited to speak to the boys. If I am honest with myself, I also needed the time to cool the fire of anger burning within me.

Children can be overwhelmingly simple; they think they are invulnerable to death and injury.

It is my own fault. I underestimated the vehemence of dislike these boys have for one another. I thought I could broker some understanding between them, but I failed miserably. I thought it was just boys being boys. Now I am reaping what I have sown.

It's not to say the fact that something could go wrong wasn't always in the back of my mind. It was there, that niggling itch that wanted to be scratched.

Filius Flitwick and I had been enjoying a lively and sometimes heated debate about the relative merits of teaching Charms for a year prior to beginning Transfiguration lessons as we slowly walked the grounds after supper. Filius had some very convincing arguments; I had too few good rebuttals to back my side of the debate. We were about to re-enter the main doors when I noticed a red glow shining off the highly polished doorknockers.

Turning around, both of us saw red sparks, the colour Professor Flitwick had instructed the students to create in the event of an emergency, shooting into the sky from the direction of the Whomping Willow.

As I and Filius ran across the lawn, I saw James Potter drag a highly emotional Severus Snape out of the gap in the tree, just before the snout of a werewolf emerged from the opening. Its mouth drooled and its jaws snapped as it eagerly anticipated an easy kill.

A werewolf hunts by scent until it is within striking distance; this creature whiffed air deeply into its lungs before it opened its mouth to bring more scent to its olfactory glands.

Finding the scent again, the trapped werewolf grew frantic to escape the confining Willow as it smelled the intense fear radiating from the two boys. The creature's eyes finally caught the motion of the two students as they fled.

James and Severus, taking no notice of the writhing tree limbs, tripped over the tree's roots as they scrambled to escape and fell hard to the packed dirt. The werewolf, sensing their weakness, pushed its broad shoulders through the narrow opening and leapt free of the tree. My stomach lurched; the wards hadn't given way; the creature's desire to gain its prey had overcome them.

Horrified, I found myself in the unenviable position of having to stun a student. The tree knocked both boys ten feet into the air; they fell hard onto the bumpy roots. Both of the young wizards lay motionless – I had no choice but to act when the creature coiled to leap at its chosen prey's throat. My wand dropped into my hand without a conscious thought.

"_Stupefy Bestia!"_ The werewolf fell heavily to the ground, nearly on top of the two boys.

"_Incarcerous! Arboris Immobilius!" _I called out the two spells in what must have been a shaking voice. The werewolf's mouth was muzzled and its legs were bound by magic, and the branches of the Willow stopped moving.

I heard the heavy footfall of the Keeper of the Keys and Grounds as he rushed up from behind to help us. A lighter, yet no less urgent, footfall followed Hagrid's.

"What's happened?" Minerva asked breathlessly.

I didn't reply; my own shock kept coherent words from forming. She seemed puzzled by my raised wand; then her eyes followed the direction it was pointed.

"Oh, my God!" she inhaled sharply, her face losing all colour.

"He won't be moving for some time," I said, more to myself than the others.

Flitwick pointed his wand at the unconscious and bound werewolf. With a minimum of wand movement, he had lifted the creature and was directing it to the opening of the Whomping Willow.

Minerva blinked madly as she stared down at the two still forms at the foot of the tree. "How did this happen, Albus?"

Steeling myself, I approached the boys lying across the bumpy tree roots, dreading the thought that either might have been bitten by the enraged werewolf. James was partially covering the other boy. Kneeling beside them, I saw the reassuring slow rise and fall of James' chest.

"Are they…?" Minerva asked tentatively as she knelt beside her students.

My wand ran over James' back. "James is fine, Minerva. I think he's just had the wind knocked out of him."

"And the other boy?" she asked worriedly.

Rolling James to the side, I saw the back of a bloody robe and felt my stomach clench.

"Hagrid, will you carry James over there?" I asked, motioning off to my right.

There was no movement from the other child; I hurriedly turned him over onto his back. My eyes hungrily took in the sight of the pasty face as my fingers searched frantically for a neck pulse. The heart beat at a maddeningly rapid pace. His skin looked luminous under the full moon.

Minerva cried out as she recognized Severus Snape.

"Find Madam Pomfrey and tell her she is needed," I said.

She hesitated and reached to touch Severus.

"Go!" I ordered as I stroked the boy's hand.

She changed into her Animagus form and sprinted across the lawn, leaping over treacherous rocks on her way to the castle.

James moaned softly.

"Madam Pomfrey will be here directly; just remain where you are, James."

"H-Hagrid?" he asked thickly. James tried to sit up.

"Yeh jus' be still."

"Is Snape hurt?" James asked in a weak, frightened voice.

Biting my lip, I couldn't speak.

"He wasn't bit, was he?" The fear in Potter's weak voice was palpable.

Minerva must have run like a cheetah because a moment later I saw Madam Pomfrey bent aerodynamically low over a broomstick; there was the silhouetted outline of a cat on the broom's bristles. Poppy and the cat leapt off the broomstick while it was still five feet from the ground.

Minerva regained her human form and stroked her robe into place with a feline grace.

The school matron glanced down at James as he struggled to sit up. She held up three fingers. "How many do you see?"

"Th-three," he replied, still in his daze. "I can't find my glasses. Do you know where my glasses are? Mum will kill me if I can't find them."

"Will you…?" Madam Pomfrey asked sharply, motioning Minerva to watch over James. The deputy headmistress dropped to the young wizard's side. I could hear the murmur of her voice as she spoke reassuringly to him.

Poppy's moved to the other teenager who was lying across the twisted tree roots. Removing her wand from her sleeve, the matron moved it down the length of Severus' body. Several times she paused and cast a low incantation before continuing her perusal.

"There are no broken bones. I'm going to move him somewhere less—" she gestured to the twisted roots, "—uncomfortable. _Mobilicorpus_!"

Stepping cautiously over the tree roots, Madam Pomfrey lifted Severus to softer ground. Hagrid shrugged off his greatcoat and folded it to place beneath the unconscious teenager. She lowered Severus and knelt beside him, then began peeling back his robe. The Whomping Willow shivered and then settled, the magic holding it having dissipated.

"Headmaster, would you light the area for me?" she asked in a brusque, no nonsense manner.

"_Lumos!" _A light shone from the tip of my wand, bathing the witch and her patient in a warm, golden glow.

The witch moved her hands over his limbs and torso with great urgency.

"I see no evidence that Mr. Snape was infected by—" she spared a glance at the tunnel, "—Mr. Lupin. He has no bite marks but some rather nasty cuts, probably caused by the werewolf's claws. He has a severe contusion on the back of his head, and some rather horrible ones on his torso and limbs."

I fretted about Severus' lack of consciousness, though a weight lifted from my shoulders upon learning he hadn't been bitten.

"Why hasn't he….?" The words faltered on my lips. Hagrid placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"Shock and pain, plain and simple, Headmaster," the school matron replied. "Let's get these two boys back to the castle. James looks a bit peaky, and Severus will require close observation."

"Minerva, escort James to one of the guest rooms; he is not to leave or have visitors," I stated firmly to the witch.

If anything untoward had happened, I didn't want any hint of complicity between the boys.

My deputy headmistress directed James forward; he walked without real steadiness, tripping over his own feet as he moved. Madam Pomfrey had lifted Severus into the air and guided his body toward the castle. Her feet were sure as a mountain goat's, moving lightly over the uneven ground.

Picking up the hem of my robes, I returned to the Whomping Willow. The dew lay heavy on the grass; hoarfrost would form during the night as the air temperature fell. Looking up at the pale yellow orb hanging innocently in the sky, I couldn't help but reflect upon how quiet the night air was.

Professor Flitwick's head emerged from the hole in the tree trunk. As the tree sensed his presence, it began to flail.

"_Immobilis Arbor!"_ I called out. The great tree stilled again.

The silence was only broken by the rapidly fading sound of James' voice, speaking to his Head of House.

"..why'd he keep going on about having to get her out?"

There was still the suggestion of childhood in his voice, though he rapidly was approaching manhood. Professor McGonagall responded to him in a hushed murmur. My attention returned to the unconscious lad being moved up the hill by Madam Pomfrey.

Severus Snape was a boy who'd often frustrated and confounded me over the past five—no, almost six years. He was a bright child, eager to learn and more than eager to apply just what he'd learned. The child had a deep interest in the Dark Arts; he'd come to Hogwarts knowing more Dark hexes than most of the seventh years.

At the same time I suspect he had to fight for a position within Slytherin; the House doesn't take kindly to those with even a hint of Muggle blood. Most especially those who came from a financially depressed half-blood family.

Professor Flitwick, having climbed out from under the Willow, interrupted my introspective thoughts.

"I've placed young Mr. Lupin under an Iratus Fera Charm on the upper floor; he is aware but unable to move."

The professor looked in the direction of the Shrieking Shack before he turned back to the tree.

"Upon reflection, I think that there are additional Charms that we might consider to increase the security of the Shrieking Shack. Perhaps by extending the _Arborus Vitatio_ to the very edges of the root system, and adding Inhibiting Charms to the ceilings, floorboards, walls, and fireplace we can seal any weak areas. Also, we can't go wrong bolstering the wards on the tunnel itself," Flitwick said as he ticked off ideas on his fingers.

"Poppy still needs to enter the premises after moonset," I reminded the professor.

"What about Charming her watch so the wards recognize her?"

"Her watch?"

"Poppy always has it pinned to her robe; I wouldn't doubt she pins it to her pink nightdress."

I found it difficult not to chuckle at the idea that Filius _knew_ the colour of the school matron's sleepwear.

"True, I've never seen Madam Pomfrey without that timepiece," I agreed. "I will ask if I may add a Charm to it when I visit Severus."

"Was Mr. Snape badly injured?" Flitwick asked with rush of concern.

"Poppy doesn't believe that Mr. Lupin managed to inflict any bites on him, only claw marks. She believes he will recover."

"Still, the claws could cause a serious infection," Filius stated emphatically.

"Yes, that concerns me as well. She'll be able to look Severus over more closely now that she has him in the infirmary."

"What about Mr. Potter?"

"James? Our school matron said he is mostly unharmed. He had a bruise beginning to form where the tree struck him, but he is fine otherwise."

"Glad to hear he at least wasn't hurt seriously." His breath puffed white clouds in the night air as he drew his wand and gave it a small twirl. Royal blue sparks escaped from its tip.

Both of us moved in opposite directions about the Whomping Willow. Simultaneously, we raised our wands and began to chant. The tree shivered as the additional magic was absorbed into its living being.

Moving as one, Filius and I walked to the approximate edge of the tree crown. Understanding that the root system of a tree is as large as the crown, we cast a charm that would distract people from approaching the Willow.

Then our task turned to reinforcing the wards on the Shrieking Shack itself. Professor Flitwick dropped easily through the hole in the tree trunk. As I dropped more heavily into the tunnel, I was grateful for my spry companion's consideration; he illuminated the tunnel.

I cast the necessary charms to keep a transformed werewolf from escaping the long, earthen corridor. The Whomping Willow's roots poking through the walls still shivered from our reenforced magic.

Filius, being lower to the ground than I, suddenly dropped to a knee. His hand closed about a ten and a quarter inch hemlock wand; tooth marks marred the spell casting end of the slender instrument. The Charms professor held it out to me; I accepted Severus' wand and stowed it carefully within one of my pockets.

That hemlock wand meant a great deal to Severus Snape, of that I was quite certain. The many times he'd been sent to my office to retrieve his confiscated wand, I'd seen his keen eyes fixed on that magical conduit as it lay upon my desk. When I turned it over to him, his cold black eyes would soften and his hand would reverentially roam over the wood for any sign of damage. Imagination may have toyed with my mind, but I thought the wand warmed in my pocket, grateful to have been recovered.

The two of us approached the steps leading up into the Shrieking Shack. We didn't cast any charms on the stairs to contain a werewolf, as one could easily leap the distance to the packed earth of the tunnel without using them.

The hatch barring our way into the structure was shut. Flitwick kept his wand aimed at the wooden structure as I silently cast an Alohomora Charm and the lid lifted open. The quiet was deafening as we cautiously moved into the lower level.

Filius and I exchanged a glance and silently agreed to first weave additional charms on the level that held the werewolf.

Using our years of experience, we moved as stealthily as panthers up the creaky flight of stairs. The small landing had several doors opening off of it. With great care we pushed open the one door that hung from its hinges. With a finger to his lips, Filius crouched low and entered the room, his wand swinging in a constant search pattern.

Motioning me in, the small wizard had his wand trained on the still bound werewolf. This caution was what had won Filius many duelling championships—he never let his guard down. The creature's eyes were open and aware of our presence. The werewolf's nostrils flared out as it smelled the air. A whine emanated deep within its throat, frustrated to be contained when an easy meal was at hand.

The whine turned to a deep growl as the two of us cast more wards on the walls and windows. Aiming higher, Professor Flitwick creatively wove charms over the ceiling; the shimmer of his magic roiled down to meet those wards already on the walls.

Leaving the werewolf where he lay, we returned to the ground level to place stronger wards upon the structure. Filius Disapparated to the building's exterior to weave a charm of such a great sophistication that only the most skilled of wizard's could have created it.

Apparating back into the structure, Professor Flitwick looked up at me. "Will you keep him bound until moonset?"

Rubbing my nose, I allowed myself some moments before responding. "He might do himself great physical harm if he was released from the bonds. Yes, Remus shall remain as he is until the sun has risen in the morning."

My petite companion shifted slightly; he obviously had something he wished to say.

"I don't think Severus Snape would've recklessly entered the Whomping Willow if he'd known what he'd encounter," Professor Flitwick said with some hesitation.

"As a matter of fact, I suspect he knew what was here," I replied.

"You think he _knew_?

"Severus Snape is, if nothing else, a boy who likes to solve mysteries. The reason why Remus Lupin was ill or away approximately every four weeks wouldn't have failed to catch his attention. The real question is why James Potter was there with him?"

"Yes, why _was_ Potter here with Snape? They hate each other!"

"True," I said.

"Yet he pushed Severus out from the Whomping Willow."

"I know," I responded pensively. "He was quite frantic about whether Snape had been bitten by the werewolf…"

_Why had Severus entered and James followed_? I asked myself. Both boys were highly suspicious of the other; I couldn't imagine James willingly following Severus without Sirius to back him up. _Sirius!_

"Filius, would you go to the Gryffindor common room and take Sirius Black to the guest quarters in Ravenclaw? I don't wish for him to have visitors or leave until I ask for him."

Professor Flitwick nodded his agreement and then looked at me speculatively. "Do you think we've secured this place enough?" he asked.

"It should do. I appreciate your clever wand-work," I said, feeling suddenly very tired.

"It was my pleasure, Headmaster."

I crouched as we walked back down the tunnel to the opening of the tree. Filius scrabbled up the roots and out into the moonlit night. Following him, I paused at the gap and looked across the countryside. The hillsides were sharp; bare granite poked through the scraggly groundcover. Further up, pine trees dotted the landscape. They were sentinels guarding the valley floors from the cold, harsh winter winds.

We walked slowly back toward the castle. The hem of my robe dragged across the ground; I was too tired to lift it.

The sight of the entry doors gave me a great feeling of comfort. They swung open as we approached, revealing the deputy headmistress. Concern and exhaustion coloured her movements as she walked out to greet us.

"It is done, Minerva. The wards have been strengthened."

Professor Flitwick left us to retrieve Sirius Black.

"Poppy has Severus in a private room," she informed me.

"And James?" I asked.

"Is in the Gryffindor guest quarters," she replied. "Do you want to see him now?"

"No. I've asked Filius to take Sirius to the Ravenclaw guest quarters."

The witch looked at me perplexed. "Sirius?"

"I should go to the infirmary and speak with Madam Pomfrey," I replied evasively, excusing myself.

Poppy walked over to meet me as I entered her domain. Her apron was spotless and very crisp; it crackled as she moved. Madam Pomfrey was always a sea of calm while those about her were in chaos.

"Severus is beginning to regain consciousness, Headmaster. He began crying out about five minutes ago."

My eyebrows rose on their own accord. "Could you understand anything?"

Walking beside me, the witch shook her head. "It was mostly gibberish—words strung together—not really anything definite."

We stood outside the room where Madam Pomfrey had placed the teenager. Looking in, it was obvious, to even the untrained eye, that something powerfully emotional was playing through the young mind.

"Have you attempted to wake him?"

"I thought it was best to wait until you'd arrived," she answered. The matron's posture was oddly defensive.

Slowly I crossed to the bed; Severus was moving about as though he was fevered.

"Severus?"

The teenager's body thrashed restlessly.

"Severus!" I called more firmly. His motions slowed and his eyes cracked opened.

"Come on now." Poppy stepped in. "The Headmaster is here to see you. Can you wake up?"

Obedient to an adult voice, Severus struggled to rise. The matron pushed him back into the pillows she'd magicked behind him. The young wizard was very groggy and not fully in control of his limbs.

I realized this would work to my advantage; Severus wouldn't be defensive or wary of trapping himself with his words.

"How are you feeling, Severus?" I asked with genuine concern.

"S-sore," he managed to stutter out. I noted that the punctilious boy had dropped his usual chilly politeness. Normally, no matter how angry or upset Severus was with me or the staff, he was always unfailingly proper in addressing us.

"Did y-you get her out?" the Slytherin asked. He moved to stand, but winced and inhaled sharply. Both Madam Pomfrey and I eased him back to the pillows.

"Get whom out, Severus?" At that moment James' question popped back into my mind.

"Evans."

Iratus Fera Charm: Angry Animal

Arboris Immobilius: Immobilize Tree


	2. The Next Morning

This story is an early Christmas present to Cecelle. Without her friendship, support, and patient proofreading, this story would have been a gigantic mess. I also thank Vaughn for urging me to go ahead with this story idea.

xoxo

_My breath was taken away with that one name—Evans. What does Lily Evans have to do with this?_ My mind reeled through the possibilities.

"Why did you think Lily had gone into the Whomping Willow?" I forced myself to maintain as quiet and calm a voice as I could.

"He told her to go."

Severus was trying to shake off the grogginess. My time was limited.

"Is that why you entered?"

"She'd've been killed." His breathing hitched and he shook violently.

Madam Pomfrey rushed forward with a cup of cocoa. The witch rested one hip against the bed and muttered reassuring words to Severus. One of her deft hands eased the warm, rich liquid to his lips and tilted some of the stuff into his mouth. He mewed in pleasure and leaned closer to the witch. A young wizard I didn't recognize reclined against the pillows.

Was this boy actually seeking comfort? Was this really the same boy who'd wildly hex other students? Was this the same boy who seemed to have few friends? Questions. I had so many questions boiling up within me.

To Severus' credit, Professor Slughorn had told me that the teenager worked well with Lily in his class. Their school records illustrated that they were remarkably good Potions students. Yet while Severus was technically the superior artist and a member of his Potions professor's house, Slughorn instead raved with endless enthusiasm about the Gryffindor's talents. That betrayal had to sting the boy.

Suddenly the question I'd failed to ask popped into my head. I hoped Severus hadn't regained his senses yet.

"Who told you Lily had gone in there?"

Cocoa lining his lips, he said, "Black."

"_Sirius Black_ told you that Miss Evans had entered the Whomping Willow?"

My incredulity obviously shook Severus. His face darkened like the wick on a lantern flickering out.

"Did Sirius Black really tell you that?" I demanded to know.

Silence.

"Severus…?"

"Headmaster, Mr. Snape needs to rest." The school matron physically inserted herself between us. She pushed me from the room and shut the door in my face.

Returning to my office, I stood beside Fawkes for some time. My hand rhythmically stroked his fiery red feathers.

My mind was greatly unsettled by the evening's events. The clock struck the second hour before physical tiredness finally won out.

Sitting behind my desk, I rested my elbows on the chair arms and closed my eyes.

It was some hours later when I felt a tapping on my shoulder that I realized sleep must have overcome me.

Minerva, worry on her face, was looking down at me. The witch's hands were clasped before her. "It is nearly sunrise, Albus. Would you like me go with you?"

Sparing a quick look at the clock, I saw that it was six forty-seven. Sunrise, which would drive the beast back into human form, was only a few minutes away.

"Alas, I think Remus would be upset to have two unexpected guests appear. Why don't we walk while Poppy attends to him? I will visit him once he has had a chance to recover," I said, stretching my cramped limbs.

The woman across from me looked dreadful. Her hair, usually carefully twisted up, was escaping its pins. There was tightness in her closely pressed lips. Her night had been no easier than mine.

I took the deputy headmistress' elbow in my hand and walked slowly to the stairs. We rode the curving granite steps as they spiralled down to the corridor below. Our walk was measured as we paced to the main staircase.

"What about James and Sirius' classes?"

"They, as well as Remus and Severus, will be missing them today."

"But…"

"I will determine whether they'll be permitted to make up the missed classes once we have puzzled this out," I said crisply.

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth to argue the point.

"No!" My anger continued to simmer. "I only want to determine what really happened."

Ahead of us, we saw Madam Pomfrey trot down the stairs and pass through the doors. Minerva and I followed the matron out into the early morning light. The grass was heavy with hoarfrost and crunched underneath our feet.

We took different paths; Poppy walked to the Whomping Willow while we walked toward the lake. As the air and water temperatures grow colder in late autumn, the Giant Squid retreats to the warmer depths of the loch, leaving the surface calm and untouched. Both Minerva and I enjoyed the quiet peace of the morning hour after the previous evening's tumultuous event.

"Shall we?" Minerva asked, indicating a stone promontory.

I nodded my agreement. Together, we climbed to sit on the ledge overlooking the still, dark waters. Our legs dangled over the outcropping. The sun is slow to warm the earth at this time of year, and our breath puffed like dragons' breath into the cold air as we sat like silent sentinels beside the lake.

My mind slowly worked through the jumbled events of last evening. A night's sleep had restored my ability to formulate and arrange the many small details which had escaped me earlier.

In his human form Remus was not a danger, but as a werewolf, was he too difficult to contain? Should I allow a lycanthrope to continue his education at Hogwarts? Would the public be better served in having him schooled at home?

Was offering Remus the opportunity to live a normal childhood worth the risk of endangering the other students' lives? It seemed like a lifetime ago that I had decided it was worth the risk. I wasn't as certain anymore.

At the time, a plan had been set in place to keep the young scholar confined during that lunar phase. The Whomping Willow was transplanted and a tunnel dug to the Shrieking Shack.

It really hadn't required a great deal of suggestion to make the school and townspeople believe an unfriendly being inhabited the structure. The hereto unheard sounds echoing through the vicinity kept the curious away. Or so it had thought.

Of course Remus Lupin's friends eventually figured out why their soft-spoken room-mate missed lessons with some regularity. Certainly Severus Snape wouldn't have been far behind in seeing a pattern in the absences, too.

The Slytherin's fascination for the Dark Arts would have helped him recognise the inherent clues which would have led him to identify Remus as a lycanthrope. He was too good a student in Defence not to realize the danger, yet he'd entered the tunnel all the same.

I can acknowledge how easily the Slytherin can be taunted into reacting; he falls to James and Sirius' baiting with astonishing constancy. His overreaction to their attacks is what causes him to stand before my desk with regularity.

Snape would undoubtedly have recovered his prickly attitude after a night's sleep. There would be no more straight answers to be had from the teenager, of that I was sure. He would be out for blood. He might even have a valid point this time.

My thoughts wandered to the group of Gryffindors who had been the Slytherin's enemies since his first year. I have held great hope for James; there has been no wavering in his opinion of the Dark Arts. He sees the issue as a matter of black and white. Sadly, this means that he puts people into neat cubby-holes, most especially Slytherins and most particularly Severus Snape.

James often has led the attacks upon the solitary Slytherin. It is the one fault I find in his character, the difficulty in seeing beyond his initial preconceptions. I've wondered if he would have befriended Remus that first day if he had known what he was.

Sirius has always been too hot-headed for his own good. Too often he leaps into action without thinking through the consequences. When he had been Sorted into Gryffindor, I had hoped that he, coming from an old Slytherin family, might have proved to be an effective fighter against the rising tide of Dark wizards. Perhaps I had been too hasty in my hopes. Charming though he is, there is an untameable streak to his personality.

Peter Pettigrew has always been a hanger-on. He really doesn't seem to form his own ideas, but rather chooses to accept those of others. Pettigrew is an opportunist, seeking out the strongest to form an alliance with. For the present, those are Potter and Black.

The chimes marking the beginning of breakfast coincided with the rumbling of my stomach. Minerva leapt nimbly from the granite outcropping and waited for me to shimmy my way to the ground.

We walked into the Great Hall. The ceiling reflected the day outside. A low sun lazily pushed its rays across the vaulted ceiling. Breakfast was lacklustre. Nothing appealed to me, and I found myself pushing my oatmeal around in the bowl. I hoped the day would improve upon lumpy porridge.

The chimes sounded again, announcing the start of the academic day. Students and staff were slow to leave the Great Hall. Minerva herded the slower students from the room and out into the Entrance Hall.

Minutes later I found myself at my desk, sorting through a pile of scrolls that never seemed to diminish. There are times I suspect the scrolls replace themselves as I move them from one basket to another.

The statue at the entrance to my office alerted me that someone was coming up. I eagerly pushed the scrolls aside, grateful for any interruption.

The door swung open, revealing a pokerfaced Madam Pomfrey.

"How is Mr. Lupin?" I asked.

"He doesn't seem to have suffered unduly from last night's events," she replied.

"And Mr. Snape?"

"He appears to have recovered his wits. He has refused to take any of the potions I've offered to alleviate the residual aches and pains."

When my brows rose she added, "He is suspicious of taking potions made by people he doesn't trust."

"I'll be up shortly to speak with Mr. Snape. Will Mr. Lupin be capable of a meeting around lunchtime?" I asked.

"Yes." Unlike many of the staff, Madam Pomfrey can be remarkably succinct in her answers.

As I watched her leave my office, I thought about the witch. Many students think of her as abrupt and impersonal in her care of them, when it really is quite the opposite. Poppy is one of the most generous persons I know; she cares deeply about her charges and is as protective of them as a queen dragon watching over her brood. Her Ravenclaw past comes to the forefront in her duties; she is passionate in seeking out new cures for the ills of our student and staff population.

After working through several more scrolls, I walked down to Madam Pomfrey's domain. The witch acknowledged my presence and waved me over to Severus' room.

I knocked on the door jamb as a courtesy. The messy, black-haired boy turned as I pushed the door open. His face grew first watchful before settling on hostile.

"How are you this morning, Mr. Snape?"

"As well as could be expected for someone nearly killed and eaten by a werewolf," he spat sarcastically.

Taking a deep breath, I said, "Then it was lucky that James went after you."

It was immediately evident that I had said the wrong thing. His eyes hardened into anthracite, and he could barely restrain the anger simmering beneath the surface.

"Why did you disobey school rules and enter the Whomping Willow? I have stated, quite clearly, at the beginning of _every_ term that it is forbidden to approach the tree," I said.

"I _knew_ you'd blame me. You _always_ blame me!" His bitter glare bored into me accusingly.

"I'd like to think I could be open-minded, if you wanted to talk."

He snorted in disbelief. There was no softening of his expression. Clearly the teenager did not believe I would listen to him. From his perspective he had a point: our previous interactions had been nothing less than unpleasant for him.

"You mentioned something last evening about someone entering the tunnel ahead of you," I said cautiously. "You were very concerned about that person. If you had reason to believe someone else had gone into the Whomping Willow, then I must say, it was a very brave act on your part to go after them."

His black eyebrows rose slightly in surprise before he tightly wrapped his emotions behind a barrier of suspicion again.

"If you believed someone was in danger and went in to try and save them, you wouldn't be punished. I would see that you were rewarded for your act of selflessness."

One long, potion-stained finger rose to slowly trace his lips. I imagine his mind was quickly working through the problem, fearful I was going to trap him. It was clear to me that he didn't want to put himself in a vulnerable position by admitting to anything.

"I know you find it hard to believe, but I do want to know, from your perspective, what happened last evening."

The greasy-haired head bowed for several minutes, and I could see a slight tremor in those long-fingered hands.

"Did Sirius tell you that someone had entered the Whomping Willow?"

"They tried to kill me," he hissed, spitting his fury. The skinny body coiled snake-like. "They were all in on it!"

"Then why would James go after you?"

"**He was just trying to save himself!"** His sallow face coloured unpleasantly. Spittle flew from his mouth as he screeched at me.

I contained my annoyance at his teenage resentments and asked, "Why did you think Miss Evans had entered the Whomping Willow?"

"He lied to me—again!"

Severus' eyes betrayed his hurt and humiliation. What could I say to him? Yes, he lied to you, and you fell for it again? I wasn't certain if they'd all been in on the prank—no, not a prank but possibly a criminal action.

"I don't want to leave Hogwarts," he added in a rush of emotion. He was one of the few students who genuinely liked to learn; he drove some of his professors to wits' end with his constant barrage of questions.

The shock of his outburst surprised us both. Then, just as quickly, I could see that the teenager had begun to close himself off after speaking his heart.

"We'll talk again, Mr. Snape," I said disconcertedly as I exited the room to mull over what he'd said.

The book that was Severus Snape had opened a bit and then slammed back shut. He fully expected me to send him down; that he thought that upset me more than I would have imagined. My opinion had always been that the boy was as cold as a block of ice, yet his actions last night and the words he'd just spoken had changed my view of him. Severus Snape would require more examination.

Poppy stood outside her office, her hands clasped neatly before her crisp white apron as she examined me.

"Would you like to speak with Remus?" she asked with a face devoid of expression.

Nodding, I followed her to a room opposite her office. Pushing open the door, the witch preceded me into the darkened room.

"Mr. Lupin, the Headmaster has come for a brief"—her expression relayed that she _meant _brief—"visit."

I stepped over to the young Gryffindor's bed and sat in the chair beside it. I waited for the school matron to leave the room.

"How are you feeling, Remus?"

He looked up at me happily. "My shoulders are a bit sore, and I have some terrific bruises on them. But other than that I'm well!"

I cleared my throat. "I wanted to speak with you about that."

"Oh?"

"Are you aware of the reason for your discomfort?"

"N-no…" he replied slowly.

"I must tell you that something unexpected occurred at the Whomping Willow last evening."


	3. Midday

This story is an early Christmas present to Cecelle. Without her friendship, support, and patient proofreading, this story would have been a gigantic mess. I also thank Vaughn for urging me to go ahead with this story idea.

oxox

"You're bruised and sore because you escaped the…"

Remus' face paled as he looked up at me. "I-I what?"

Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself before replying. "Someone found their way into the tunnel last night."

"One of my roommates?" he asked hesitantly.

"No. Someone else," I said carefully. It struck me as odd that he thought one of his friends might have gone in on the night of a full moon. After all, they all knew about the other side of Remus.

"Oh, God! I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" Fear replaced the tentativeness.

I could see very clearly that Remus was genuinely shocked and frightened.

"Another student managed to pull the first from the tunnel before you could cause any serious damage."

Remus began to cry hysterically. "No! No!"

Madam Pomfrey was suddenly beside us. She took the crying boy by the shoulders and tipped a vial into his mouth. I left the infirmary as the school matron eased her patient back onto the pillows.

oxox

1It's important for the head of an institution to show his presence periodically. As for myself, I make it a practice to frequently wander the corridors of Hogwarts, and appear at nearly every meal in the Great Hall. It is less intimidating for the school's headmaster to greet his students in a seemingly casual manner, rather than the formal 'being called to the headmaster's office for a chat' approach. Sadly, there are a number of students who make frequent visits up the stairs to my office anyway.

Taking note of my empty stomach, I entered the Great Hall for a bite of lunch. Some of the bolder, or those wishing to curry favour, greeted me. The students appeared very much as they always do at the lunch hour. Some sat pushing as much food into their mouths as they could, while others ate more slowly. More than just a few fifth and seventh years had books propped against pumpkin juice pitchers. As always, the Ravenclaws with open books in front of them outnumbered the other houses.

I glanced at the Slytherin table. More often than not, I recall, the boy now residing in the infirmary would sit with one hand holding a book while the other slowly moved food to his mouth. I now wonder just how much food he actually got into his stomach.

Sitting in my chair I looked across the vast room. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables had groups of happy students seated on the benches. At the Ravenclaw table, I saw young Mr. Bones talking earnestly with a young woman he was working at impressing. It seemed unlikely that Miss Boote would fall under his spell, but stranger things have happened when the heart is at stake.

An unconscious sigh of contentment passed my lips when a steaming pasty appeared before me. My mouth watered in anticipation of the crumbly crust and of discovering what was inside the delectable titbit. Crumbs of the delicate pastry fell into my beard in my haste to enjoy the treat.

I ripped into half of the steaming hot pasty and found the need to take a deep breath of cool air. My eyes roamed across the room again. The Gryffindor table looked somewhat ill at ease. They knew that three of their members were absent and didn't know why. I could see Peter Pettigrew sitting alone at the Gryffindor table. He looked nervous at being without his friends and wiped his hands across his face in a very peculiar motion.

Having finished my delectable pasty, I found myself pushing away the Spotted Dick. Minerva did a double take at seeing my refusal of the dessert. Pushing my chair out, I slowly walked back through the Great Hall, stopping to chat with a seventh year Ravenclaw about a Transfigurations problem he'd been sorting through for several months. Though I no longer teach, I am open to working with students interested in advanced problem solving.

I was beginning to climb the stairs to speak with James and Sirius when a nervous voice stopped my progress.

"Headmaster? Headmaster Dumbledore?"

I turned, hearing rapid footsteps climbing up toward me.

"Sir, may I have a word with you?" he said, breathing very hard.

"Certainly, Mr. Pettigrew. What may I do for you?"

"I- I wondered if you knew where James and Sirius are? I've looked everywhere and I can't find them," he said anxiously.

"Why don't we have a little chat in my office?" I replied.

"I-I have a class in…"

"This won't take long."

"Well... All right, sir."

As we approached the statuary sentinel guarding my office, it moved aside, revealing the moving stairs. Peter rode two steps behind, up into the heights of the headmasters' tower. The door swung open at my approach and I waved the teenager into one of the chairs.

"What was it you wished to speak about?" I asked.

Peter moved his hands over his face and looked at me.

"Well, I can't find either James or Sirius."

"When was the last time you saw them?"

"We all returned to the common room after dinner. Sirius went out and came back and..."

"Was there anything unusual about that?"

"No, not really. Sirius was laughing so hard he could barely speak. He asked where James was and when I told him James was in the dormitory, he ran up the stairs. Then James came running and went out the entrance. About forty-five minutes later, Professor Flitwick came and Sirius went with him. And Flitwick won't..."

"_Professor_ Flitwick," I reminded the student.

"Yes, Professor Flitwick won't tell me where he is! And no one knows where James is, either!"

I sat back and looked deeply into the teenager's eyes. He appeared to be genuinely concerned for his two friends' absence.

"There was an…incident last evening," I said slowly.

Peter's face paled and he blinked rapidly. "James wasn't hurt, was he?"

"Why would you assume James might have been injured?"

He licked his lips and washed his face with his hands.

"You know about Remus' condition, don't you?" I asked.

Horrified, he nodded his agreement and licked his lips again.

"You all know how to get into the Whomping Willow," I stated knowingly.

A flurry of emotions passed over his face.

"You go into the Shrieking Shack sometimes, don't you?"

He froze in his chair.

"I'm not upset. It's perfectly understandable that four boys would want some place to get away from their teachers' prying eyes."

The slightly plump young wizard relaxed on the chair. Peter dug in a pocket and withdrew a few sunflower seeds.

"Did you ever tell anyone else how to get in?"

"Of course not, Headmaster," he said huffily and cracked a seed open. "That is our secret. It's where we plot..."

"_Plot_?"

"Well, not plot. More come up with ideas of things to do to..." Peter stopped himself too late, again. He nibbled at the nutmeat.

"I see. You all like to come up with ideas?"

"Sure, ideas."

"I imagine it takes a lot of time to plan out some of your more imaginative pranks," I said with a studied nonchalance.

"You'd be surprised just how much work it is to think up..."

"Oh, I can believe that," I agreed.

"Do you know it took James and Sirius a month to create that Nose Hex and catch Snape with it? They practiced it on me until it was right!" he exclaimed emboldened by my agreeableness.

"You enjoy helping them out, then?" I wasn't finding it very difficult to stop Peter speaking so carelessly. I was, after all, learning quite a bit more about the boys than I'd known before.

"Sure, anything to get Snape. As James says – it isn't a good week unless something happens to that git!"

"Really? He said that, did he?"

"Of course! 'Cept he's been a bit lax recently. He's more interested in flirting with Evans, though that hasn't been going quite as Prongs thought it would. You know, Quidditch star and all that. Evans is still barely giving him the time of day. Sirius has been in a right tiff over that; he thinks Snivellus is trying to horn in on her."

"Do you think he is?"

"Think he's just to try to get a rise out of James."

I smiled encouragingly at him.

"You don't think Lily really is interested in Mr. Snape, do you?" I asked.

"Hmmm, she doesn't dislike him," he said thoughtfully. "She thinks Snivellus studies hard and is really good at Potions, but she gets better marks from old Slug–I mean Professor Slughorn."

"Has Miss Evans told you that, or is it your own take?"

"It's what I've noticed," he said self importantly.

_You're a very observant young wizard, aren't you?_ I thought to myself. _I might just have misjudged you as well._

"You see, James and Sirius sometimes forget that other people notice things, too. Like Slughorn. He thinks Snape is brilliant in Potions, but he doesn't think Snape would ever be able to do anything for him. If you know what I mean.

"Really?"

He coughed a laugh. "Definitely; he likes people who can help him _advance_, if you know what I mean. And Snivellus can't do anything for him, coming from the sort of background he does."

"And what sort of background is that?" I asked. Peter was giving me a perspective on his view of his fellow students I hadn't noticed before.

"Well, it's ironic, don't you think, that someone from Slytherin isn't a pure-blood? I don't think old Slughorn thinks much of that," he said. "Some of Snape's housemates follow Slughorn's lead. I mean, when have you ever seen one of them back him up in a fight?"

Doing my best to remain unfazed by his words, I folded my hands and looked off into the distance.

"What _did_ happen at the Whomping Willow?" Peter finally asked.

"Someone, not one of your roommates, found a way into the tree's entrance."

"Really? Who was it?"

He looked very curious about who'd managed to find their way in. I looked down at my clasped hands for several moments. He would ask James and Sirius what had happened when he had the chance. I'd have to insure that wouldn't happen.

"I'm not at liberty to say who it was."

He frowned before asking, "W-what happened to him?"

"I am not in a position to say anything more."

One could easily imagine the wheels in Peter's head whirling at an incredible rate.

"Was James hurt? Is that why he's been missing? Was that why Flitwick took Sirius—to visit him?"

"As I stated earlier, I will say no more."

"But what about James?" he asked again. He screwed up his forehead in thought.

"You are free to leave, Mr. Pettigrew," I said, dismissing him.

He rose and began to cross the room. Turning back, Peter asked, "What about James and Sirius?"

"They may be rejoining you soon."

"What does that mean?"

"I am sir or Headmaster, Mr. Pettigrew. It means just what I said."

"Yes, sir." He turned and slowly stepped on the moving stairs to descent to the corridor below.

oxox

I sat for some minutes digesting what had passed between us. Feeling every one of my years, I moved to sit in my private study on my favourite well worn chair with my feet propped upon the ottoman, and reflect on all that had occurred. I waved my hand at the small lap robe; it covered me from chin to toe with downy warmth.

The hourly chimes sounded one, two, and three before I rose from the comfort of my retreat. Stretching, I braced myself to interview the remaining two teenagers.

Exiting my high nest, I descended to the main school level. Students were moving between lessons in a scurrying flow. Many acknowledged my presence with a quick "Headmaster!" before continuing on their path.

"Good afternoon, Headmaster," a young woman's voice said.

Looking over, I saw Lily Evans, her arms heavily laden with books.

"Might I have a moment of your time, Miss Evans?"

Biting her lower lip and shifting her texts, Evans managed a half smile.

I motioned her into an empty classroom and shut the door behind us. The teenager deposited her pile on one of the tables and looked at me expectantly.

"I don't doubt that you've noticed some of your housemates have been absent," I said, opening the dialogue.

"What'd they do this time?" she queried and blew her fringe from her eyes.

I rested one hip on the table and looked down at my hands. "I'd like to know how close you are to Mr. Snape."

"Severus? We're assigned to work together in Potions. We study together and sometimes we talk, that's all," she replied.

"I must ask – do you believe Mr. Snape is interested in you romantically?"

Miss Evans looked at me and blushed to the roots of her hair. "Er, no. He's nice enough in his own way, but I think he's got a bit of a chip on his shoulder with Gryffindors. Sometimes he says the most outrageous things when he's provoked."

"What sort of things does he say?" I asked.

"Well, nothing that he hasn't apologised to me for."

"Do you accept his apologies?" I pushed the young woman further.

"Of course! James and Sirius are to blame for most of the wretched situations, and that gives him little option but to lash out at someone. He—he comes from a mixed family himself. You'd think Sirius would understand the position he's in within Slytherin and leave him be."

Miss Evans sat on the table beside me and toyed with her long braid.

"Mr. Potter likes you a great deal, doesn't he?"

An expression of happiness lighted her face. "Yes, sir."

"What does James think of your working with Severus?"

"He's not happy about it, but I told James I don't appreciate his bullying Severus. James hasn't been _as_ mean to him this term, though I can't say the same of Sirius," she said earnestly.

Smiling, I said, "Thank you for your time, Miss Evans. Professor McGonagall was thrilled with your latest Transfigurations project. I must add – it was a very well planned idea. Keep up the good work."

Lily Evans beamed at me and walked to the painting of the Fat Lady, while I continued to the corridor containing Professor McGonagall's private suite and the guest rooms.

I spelled the door open. James Potter stood and rushed toward me. He was clearly anxious.

"Is Remus all right, sir?" Genuine concern coloured the tone of his voice.

"Mr. Lupin suffered rather severe bruising to his upper body when he broke through the door," I commented.

I saw James turn green, yet I felt no need to soften my words. "From your Defence lessons you know what a werewolf can do. You were lucky to escape alive."

"W-what about Snape?" James voice was very frightened.

I looked at him over the top of my half-moon glasses. With great deliberation I moved to the sofa and sat. "He survived the attack."

"W-was he hurt?"

I took my time in answering. I could see James growing more nervous as I chose my words.

"Mr. Snape will—survive."

"Oh, God, no!" The teenager dropped to his knees. "Why did he do it?"

"Why did who do what?"

"Why did Sirius tell Snape to go in there?" he replied in anguish.

I took his chin in my hand and raised it to look at me. "Did you have any part in this, Mr. Potter?"

"No," he choked out in a sob.

"Mr. Snape wasn't bitten."

"Oh, thank God!" His head dropped into his arms.

I sat back into the sofa cushions. The relief in hearing his words warmed my heart; James could look beyond his friendships.

"So, Remus and Sirius won't go to Azkaban then."


	4. Moment Of Truth

The warmth in my heart flickered out. James' rescue of Severus had not been for selfless reasons; he didn't care about the boy. It was an act meant to save his friends only.

I rose and left him alone in the room. The afternoon was proving to be as dreadful as I'd suspected it would be.

Professor Flitwick was speaking with a distraught student as I approached his Ravenclaw office. Filius quickly disengaged the young woman, sending her to speak with the head girl.

The two of us walked slowly down the corridor to the rooms set aside for guests of Ravenclaw.

As Filius Flitwick waved his wand at a bare granite wall in an elaborate display of movement, the shape of a portal gradually emerged from the stone blocks. The corridor was so heavily shadowed I found myself squinting in the dim torch light. Flitwick's wand work made me smile despite the severity of the situation.

As I reached for the door handle, I sensed Filius reaching out to stay my movement. With a final wand wave, the small professor pushed open the door.

Sirius Black sat scowling, cross-legged on the seat of the fireplace fender; he was balanced on the narrow brass rail. The moment he heard the door open, he startled and fell back into the opening. Jumping to his feet, he brushed the sooty ashes from the seat of his corduroy trousers. Sirius' manner altered to that of the familiarly pleasant, jovial, and fun-loving chap.

Filius stood beside me, watching the young man with a cautionary eye.

"I'll wait outside the door," the head of Ravenclaw muttered.

"Well, Mr. Black," I said, once we were alone, "there is a dilemma that I just cannot ignore."

The handsome young man looked back at me with a curious lack of concern. My own past behaviour undoubtedly gave him the impression I would be unlikely to closely question him. With some distraction, I waved him to sit.

"Now, I think we can both drop any pretence and admit we know who is in the Shrieking Shack during the full moon. As friends and roommates, I can understand how you all would come to puzzle out the nature of Mr. Lupin's absences.

"The problem is this: someone found his way through the entrance of the Whomping Willow and down the tunnel that leads to the Shack."

A shadow passed over Sirius' face. His fingers wrapped around the edge of the brass fender, smudging the shiny surface. He looked at me unflinchingly and unapologetically.

"What confuses me is how Mr. Snape managed to find his way into—?"

"To be honest, Headmaster, he's always putting his nose into other people's business. For all I know, he could have hidden behind a tree when Madam Pomfrey took Remus one evening," he said with the same cold voice of his cousin Bellatrix.

"Mr. Snape did not hide behind a…" I began to say.

"He's always sneaking around and getting into trouble!" Sirius interrupted me. "You're always giving him detention."

"True, though I find it interesting that those detentions tend to involve the four of you, in some way or another," I pointed out.

Sirius smiled and shook his head. "Well, Snape's always trying to start something with one of us. I mean, he isn't the brightest torch at Hogwarts."

My lunch soured in my stomach. "Mr. Snape is an intelligent young wizard."

Sirius laughed roughly. "That's a matter of opinion."

"He's a perfectionist in his school work," I responded with some equanimity.

Sirius gave his opinion with a loud snort of disdain.

"What has Mr. Snape done to earn your scorn?"

A look of incredible condescension crossed his features. "He breathes!"

That caught me by surprise. My face must have mirrored my astonishment, for Sirius hesitated briefly before speaking again.

"F-from the first moment I saw him I knew he was worthless. That pathetic sycophant has been trying to worm his way into the pure-blood society of Slytherin. He hasn't the brains to figure out he's a joke, even to them. I'm sure the only reason they've tolerated him as long as they have is his one so-called talent—creating hexes."

It was a difficult realization to discover two of the young wizards I'd pinned my hopes on speak so dismissively of another student. True, Severus Snape was certainly flying his broom straight to a disastrous end. But James Potter and Sirius Black were the wind pushing that broom to fly faster. I left the room feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders.

xoxox

Filius was waiting for me; he was on a window ledge, meditating. Without my saying a word, the small professor dropped gracefully to the floor. We walked down the corridor to his private rooms.

Flitwick, knowing of my great appreciation for Napoleon brandy, poured me a snifter of the stuff. I swirled the liquid in the glass bowl, enjoying the deep amber colour and the heady scent as it released its fine bouquet. He motioned me to sit.

"You're troubled, Albus," he commented and sat opposite me.

Nodding, I sighed and frowned. "Filius, I've heard something that disturbs me deeply. I thought I understood those boys; now I see I was perhaps mistaken. I thought I didn't discriminate between the different Houses, and now my own folly might just come back to bite me."

"You can't place all the blame on your Gryffindors. Severus Snape has often stoked the fires with his own actions."

I took a sip of the brandy and leaned back into the cushions. "It's true; Snape is no innocent. That boy can be vicious. Yet I am beginning to suspect he wouldn't be quite so creative with his jinxes and hexes if he didn't feel put upon all the time."

Filius leaned forward. "What has changed your perspective?"

I sipped more of the brandy. "I heard Sirius' and James' pathetic excuses and evasions…"

"You thought they were without faults, did you?" he asked in his high-pitched voice.

"I allowed myself to believe that Severus manoeuvred them every time they stood before me. James and Sirius just were so much more believable than he was. They were polite and genuine, whereas he was calculating and barely cordial."

Filius raised a short, stumpy forefinger. "Ah, but Miss Evans has always been friendly with Mr. Snape."

"True, and that is at the core of the problem. Would you be so kind and bring Sirius to my office in fifteen minutes?"

I left to return to my office, well braced by Professor Flitwick's secret stash of Napoleon. Once there, I reached for my quill and three rolls of parchment. After scratching out the brief notes, I called my house-elf to deliver them. He popped from the room with a loud crack.

Some time later, the gargoyle in the corridor below announced an arrival. The oak door swung open, revealing Severus Snape in the company of Professor Slughorn.

"Thank you for escorting Mr. Snape, Horace," I said to the Potions professor.

"Not at all, Headmaster," he said before retreating down the stairs.

"I'd like you to sit there," I told Severus and pointed to a chair. He sat with his arms crossed over his chest. The young Slytherin had a deep scowl on his face.

The sound of Slughorn greeting someone down the stairs echoed up into the office. The boy seated before me began to fidget with a thread on the edge of his frayed school robes.

A moment later, Professor Flitwick shepherded Sirius Black into the room.

"I'll be waiting downstairs," the small wizard said before exited back down the stairs.

Black saw the Slytherin and smirked. With a finger, I pointed to a chair at the far side of my desk. Sirius dropped into it with an unstudied casualness.

Green flames erupted from the fireplace, and Remus Lupin stepped tentatively out onto the hearth. Severus tensed in his chair, and a shadow of a grin crossed Sirius' face. Remus gratefully took a seat beside Sirius.

"What's…?" Remus began.

"I would prefer we wait until everyone has arrived before speaking." My tone brooked no compromise.

The last to arrive was James Potter. He was accompanied by the deputy headmistress. Minerva pushed him into the remaining chair, the one between Remus and Severus. Her face revealed none of her thoughts.

Professor McGonagall exited the room and closed the door behind her. I could hear the stair move downward.

Leaning back in my well-worn chair, I looked in turn at all four boys. Severus had shifted as far to the side of his chair as was possible; he flinched as he met my gaze, but didn't shy away.

James kept his head bowed, his jaw working madly.

"I am going to ask each of you a few questions. None of you are to interrupt each other."

In confusion, Remus looked from his House mates to the Slytherin, and then to me.

Turning to Severus, I said, "I want a direct and concise answer, Mr. Snape. Who told you how to enter the Whomping Willow last evening?"

It wasn't difficult to see the battle going on within the Slytherin's mind. He _wanted_ to round on the boys sitting next to him. At the same time, his school boy pride didn't want to publicly admit to having been bested.

Remus had gasped aloud at my words and looked at Severus with a paling face. Severus met his gaze.

"Mr. Lupin, did you tell Messrs. Black and Potter how to enter a restricted area?"

With the look of an animal caught in a trap, Remus looked back at me with huge eyes.

"Y-yes, sir," he replied in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Did you share that information with Mr. Snape?"

He shook his head in denial. Severus looked appraisingly at Remus.

"All right—" I turned to James, "—Mr. Potter. It would be unbelievable happenstance for you to just happen to be at the right place at the right time. Did you tell Mr. Snape how to enter the tree?'

"No, sir." James was white-faced.

Remus' head turned to look at James, who worried his lip and kept his face down-turned.

"Do you know who told Mr. Snape the way in?"

James looked as if he'd be ill, but I didn't let up the pressure.

"I am waiting for an answer, Mr. Potter."

The Gryffindor squirmed and glanced at Sirius. He took a deep breath and muttered, "Yes, sir."

Sirius sat as still as a statue before he turned and looked at his two friends. He then glanced at Severus Snape contemptuously.

"So, it comes down to you, Mr. Black. I want the truth: did you tell Mr. Snape how to enter the Whomping Willow?"

Snorting dismissively, Sirius slouched in his chair. "Why would I tell _that git_ anything?"

"I am _sir_, Mr. Black; kindly remember that fact."

With an expression of complete disbelief, Severus turned back to look at me. He hadn't expected me to interrogate the Gryffindors this strongly.

"Don't play me for a fool. We both know you told Severus how to enter the tree. I want to know the reason for your actions," I said, trying to hold my temper in check.

Sirius' face once again had the harshness of his cousin Bellatrix. Calculation was evident in his body's position on the chair.

"Siri…" James began.

"I was quite clear when we began that there were to be no interruptions," I snapped at Potter.

He blinked rapidly and returned to studying his lap while Snape sat watching me with a finger thoughtfully tracing his mouth.

"Sir, if I might—?" James asked me in a rush.

One of my eyebrows rose; James took it as permission to speak.

"Why'd you do it?" he asked his friend.

"Because he keeps getting in the way!" Sirius exclaimed.

Remus whimpered. Severus returned to his intense study of the distraught teenager.

"So what? He's always been a prat," James retorted, with a confused face.

A contemptuous sneer settled on the Slytherin's face when he turned his attention back to James and Sirius.

"_So what_? Evans won't give you the time of day because of that big-nosed git. She'd go with you in a heartbeat if he wasn't always sniffing around and distracting her!" Sirius said in an impassioned hiss.

"I could do without your interference."

"I was _trying_ to help you!" Sirius cried.

"I don't need help like that. Lily doesn't _like_ him that way, she told me that herself."

"He might be able to convince her otherwise."

"She _doesn't_ like him."

"She's always talking to him," Sirius argued.

"Only because they're Potions partners!" James cried out.

"I was trying to ensure he'd stop sniffing around her!"

"I can't believe I'm saying this: Lily said he is polite to her," James admitted grudgingly. "But nothing more than that."

"Pretending to be _nice_ to someone is the oldest trick in the world!"

"I'm beginning to think _you_ have something for Evans," James said.

"The only thing I _have_ is making certain _you_ get her, not him! And if I have to scare off Snape to do that, I will."

"So you just told him to take a stroll up to the Shack?"

"Of course not! I had come up with something really creative. He may be stupid, but he's not an idiot. The only way to get Snape to go in was to tell him I'd seen Evans go into the Whomping Willow."

"**What?"** James cried out. "You told him Lily was in the tunnel? You've probably just ruined any chance I had with her. Once she hears of this, she'll never speak to me again."

Severus sat and watched his nemeses intently. Slowly, his perusal turned on me. It was easy to imagine his mind whirling with possibilities at Sirius' admission. He was nothing if not calculating.

I leaned forward and rested my elbows on the desk before me.

"Well, Mr. Snape," I said. "You have been remarkably reticent. Surely you must have _something_ to say?"

James and Sirius grew silent when I turned the conversation to the wizard they each loathed.

"As I have said before, Headmaster, they are not the innocents you have always claimed they are. Now you're seeing the other side—the _true_ side of their natures," Severus said venomously.

"You're one to speak of true natures, Snivellus!" Sirius said scathingly.

James shook his head in disbelief.

"…Says the person who sent someone in to face a werewolf!" The Slytherin's voice was strident and firm.

"You froze in there, didn't you? Coward! And you claim to be so good in the Dark Arts."

Fury was evident on Severus' face. "Don't call me a coward, you murderer!"

"You've always been and always will be a coward, Snivellus," Sirius said dismissively.

"**Enough!"** I cried out. "Mr. Black, your blatant disregard for a fellow student is beyond unacceptable. You will be returned to your parents' home this evening; I have already written explaining the reasons. Any possible return…"

"You'd let a murderer come back?" Severus cried out in outrage.

"**Silence**!" I ordered. "As I was saying, your return depends on your conduct, Mr. Black. I hope that during the time you are at home, you will reflect upon your rash action. When you return, I expect you to issue a contrite, heartfelt apology to these gentlemen and to Mr. Lupin.

"Professor Flitwick is waiting downstairs to escort you to Hogsmeade. You are dismissed," I said with chilliness.

Sirius slowly stood in disbelief. He glanced down at James; his friend refused to look at him. The teenager walked out the door like a dog that has its tail between its legs.

James barely seemed to breathe. His black hair fell in a neglected wave over his forehead.

"Mr. Potter, you will be rewarded seventy-five points for your actions."

"You're rewarding him for being in on Black's plot?" Severus cried out furiously. He looked ready to lash out physically.

"I found no evidence that Mr. Potter had anything to do with this matter other than rescuing you, Mr. Snape."

Severus looked like Christmas had been cancelled, and wilted into his chair. Poor boy, he undoubtedly thought his enemies were getting off lightly.

I caught James' eye and said, "So now, Severus is in your debt for his life. I feel compelled to point out that Mr. Snape _thought_ Miss Evans had gone into the Whomping Willow and went in to save her. I want you to think about his selfless act. Do not be so petty as to abuse the debt he has incurred. You are dismissed."

Severus looked completely crushed as James left my office.

"Mr. Snape," I began. "I am convinced that Sirius Black acted on his own volition and that the others had nothing to do with it."

The young wizard's face couldn't hide his contradictory opinion. His hair lay in a greasy rope across his forehead as he shook his head, denying my conclusion.

"While I can appreciate that you resent Mr. Potter being rewarded, you should be grateful for his timely appearance."

"He was only saving his friends," Severus snapped cantankerously.

"No matter; he _did_ save your life."

"And now I am to be indebted to him?" He looked as distraught and vulnerable as I'd ever seen him.

"It's seems unfair, I know. But at the same time, it would please me if you would consider Mr. Lupin's position," I said, knowing I was rubbing salt into the wound.

Severus' face grew angry. "He'll leave Hogwarts."

"I can understand that you dislike his friends; they have done nothing but caused you great frustration. But do you really think it is fair to punish him for what someone else did?" I asked.

"No, but then _I_ have always been the one punished for what _they_ began. All I want is Black gone. However, I know I won't be granted that pleasure, so I'll settle for the werewolf's removal," he said firmly.

"Then I'm afraid I must disappoint you. Further, I must request that you swear on your wand that you will never speak of this incident or reveal Mr. Lupin's malady, or you will face expulsion."

Severus' mouth fell open; all colour left his sallow face. Righteous anger seeped from his every pore. "He nearly killed me; you expect me to say nothing?"

"I repeat, you must swear to never speak of this or reveal Mr. Lupin's malady, or you will face dismissal from Hogwarts."

"That's not fair!"

"It may not be fair, but Mr. Lupin is as much a victim as you are. Need I remind you that you were in an area prohibited to students?"

"But I was trying to save Evans!"

I felt a hypocrite for putting the onus on this teenager when he had been victimized.

"I appreciate that, Severus. I am awarding you fifty points for your bravery. At the same time, I would like you to note that I have punished the perpetrator harshly," I said, defending my actions.

"_Really?_ Black was sent home for two measly weeks; Lupin is allowed to remain at Hogwarts, and Potter was awarded seventy-five points. You're _threatening_ me with dismissal if I say anything. I shouldn't have expected you to _do_ anything to them," Severus spat angrily.

How could I tell him that I believed that if Sirius was expelled, he would succumb to family pressure and turn to the Dark Arts? He needed to remain under the influence of Gryffindor.

At the same time I feared Severus had already been lost. Yet last night I had seen that Severus didn't blindly follow Slytherin House dogma, but was able to think for himself. I felt an odd sense that perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps there was still a glimmer of goodness buried deep inside of him. I was sickened by the thought that I might be sacrificing one vulnerable boy's future for another's.

Looking at the teenager, I could see he needed more than just empty words; he needed to understand that I did care about what happened to him.

"No, it's just an admission that I have been unkind to you in the past. I will try to be more even-handed in the future. If you ever want to talk to me, I _will_ listen to you. Don't allow your anger to rule you. Don't waste your soul just to soothe your bruised ego."

He, again, had that look of amazement. "Is that supposed to make up for six years of being bullied by your favourites? Do you really think that just by sitting down for a chat will make this less unfair? Don't waste my time pretending to care about me. You're only sorry that your precious Gryffindors have finally shown their true colours, Headmaster."


	5. Epilogue

This story is an early Christmas present to Cecelle. Without her friendship, support, and patient proofreading, this story would have been a gigantic mess. I also thank Vaughn for urging me to go ahead with this story idea.

xoxo

I was working in my office, one summer day, when the fire flared green. Turning to see who was calling me, I saw the flushed face of Lily Potter looking back at me. There was something peculiar in her expression that forced me to take notice.

"Headmaster, have you time for a chat?" she asked.

Briefly, I considered asking her to come through, but realized that her young child must be napping.

"Would you like me to step through?" I asked, walking toward the hearth.

Nodding, the witch moved back to allow me to Floo to her kitchen. She stood with her hands resting on the edge of the counter. I cleaned the soot with a quick wave of my wand and shook out my robes before stepping off the hearth.

"Thank you," she said appreciatively. "James never remembers to do that."

The small kitchen smelled of yeast and sugary delights. Lily took her apron off, folded it, and placed it next to a canister of flour.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" she asked and, without waiting for an answer, turned to fill the kettle with water. Lily then warmed the Brown Betty with hot tap water. With a wave of her wand, she lighted the cooker. The witch carefully warmed the pot and set it aside.

Soon the water boiled quite noisily in the copper kettle, and the young mother doused the flame. Dumping out the warming teapot, Lily carefully measured the loose leaves into it before placing it on the table.

Something was definitely bothering her, I thought. As I watched her prepare the tea, I saw the precise movement of her hands and was taken back just a few years to her school days.

Upon occasion I'd stopped in to observe a class. Once I'd visited the Advanced Potions class and watched the Gryffindor witch working at her cauldron, measuring out her ingredients and cautiously stirring them into her potion.

Lily had been working with her lab partner, Severus Snape. Their heads had been bent together as they worked on their potion. I shook my head to clear the image from my mind.

"The sweet buns will be out momentarily," she explained as she reached up and removed two cups and saucers from the rack above the basin and placed them on the sturdy kitchen table.

"It isn't like you to prevaricate," I pointed out.

The small lines on her face deepened. Stepping back from the counter, she motioned me into a chair. Lily poured the tea into the cups and sat. Resting her hands on the table, she began to twirl her wedding band with her thumb. There was a small glint as it spun on her finger.

"I, er, was wondering – do you ever see Severus Snape around?" she asked slowly. Her head was bent down, watching the whirling gold band.

Leaning forward in surprise, I took in a deep breath. "I haven't seen him for quite some time. Why do you ask?"

The gold band continued its orbit of her slender finger. Lily chewed at her upper lip before answering.

"I-I just have been wondering about him—recently. I…" She allowed the sentence to fade away.

"I'm certain he is hap..."

"No. No, I don't think he is."

"Why would you think he's unhappy?"

Her green eyes flashed as she glared at me. "He's my—he was my friend. No one seems to care about what's happened to him."

"Have you mentioned your concern to James?" I asked, concerned about her emotional state.

Lily pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose. "No. I love the man with all my heart, but I can honestly say my friendship with Severus is something he's never quite grasped."

Picking up my teacup, I look a sip of the still hot liquid. The ring spun faster on her finger, then halted abruptly.

"I know that something happened between them, Headmaster. I've been thinking about this a lot. Severus became very distant almost overnight. James began to ignore him–well not ignore him, really. But he didn't jinx Severus like he used to; I thought he'd finally grown up a bit. But the more I've thought about it, the more I know something occurred between them. James won't tell me, so I'm asking you: what happened?"

I'd never anticipated that Lily would ever be questioning me about the changes in the behaviour of both her husband and his rival. She'd obviously given the matter a great deal of thought.

"It isn't something I can discuss," I replied and placed my cup back on the saucer.

"I'm not asking you to tell me how to break the wards protecting Hogwarts! I just want to know what occurred between James and Severus. What made them change?"

I'll admit her tenacity surprised me. Taking my glasses off to buy some time and collect myself, I slowly polished the lenses. Carefully I restored them to their normal location on my crooked nose. Lily was staring at me intently.

"It is a matter between your husband and Severus."

"I _need_ to know; I'm begging you to tell me."

"Why is this so important to you?" I questioned.

"Because I saw Severus yesterday."

I grew alert. "You saw him? Where?"

"I won't tell you where I saw him until you tell me what happened," she bargained.

Lily had cleared her face of all emotion; it must have been a trick she learned watching Muggle films about gamblers. She sat back against her chair and crossed her arms.

For several minutes, I met her gaze, thinking she would give way; she didn't cave under pressure. The witch had strong willpower; it was something her fellow students had quickly discovered. There was no way she would back up.

I weighed the options: to deny any knowledge that anything had happened or tell her as little as possible of the truth.

"James saved Severus' life."

Lily's face showed extreme surprise. I could sense her mind was working quickly.

"One moment please! _Remember; remember, Evans,"_ she muttered to herself. "Sirius disappeared for two weeks during sixth year. That was about the time Severus grew very bitter and withdrawn; he wouldn't speak to me outside of class. It was also when James began to more or less ignore him."

"Why is it so important that you know about something that happened such a long while ago?" I asked.

Frustrated, the witch's body slouched and she frowned.

"Because I'm trying to figure out why Severus has been following me for the past two weeks."

"_Two weeks_? You told me you'd seen him yesterday. _Yesterday_ would indicate this was a first time observation," I pointed out.

The timer rang, and Lily rose to remove the currant buns she'd been baking from the oven. With the wave of her wand, she levitated two of the steaming pastries onto plates. With an efficiency born of years of magical practice, the two plates floated onto the table. With a pop, serviettes and cutlery appeared next to them. Leaning against the counter, she sighed deeply.

"I've had a vague feeling of being watched when I take the baby out. Then, yesterday, I took Harry out to the grocers and I saw Severus reflected in the shop window. When I turned around, there he was, just a few feet away, staring at us."

"Have you told James?" I asked, seriously concerned by this information.

She snorted dismissively. "No. He's never thought very highly of Severus."

"I must warn you: I am certain Severus Snape is a follower of Lord Voldemort."

Lily rubbed her hands over her face. "I can't deny that the evidence points to that fact. Yet, I think he regrets that decision, Headmaster."

My eyebrows rose, and I settled in for what might prove to be a very a long discussion.

"Why do you think that?" I asked curiously.

Laughing slightly, Lily sat down again. "You could call it intuition—a mother's intuition. There was something about him that just seemed lost and regretful.— It was odd really; there he was, just following us."

My mind began to churn. What was Snape up to? This just didn't make any sense. It seemed unlikely he would reveal himself if he'd been ordered to shadow Lily's steps.

"He's miserable. I think he wants to leave—You-Know-Who's group," the young mother said firmly.

"Did he tell you that?" I inquired as I spooned sugar into the cooling tea.

The ring began its orbit of her finger again. The motion reminded me of the turning of Tibetan Prayer Wheels.

"No," she admitted quietly. "He didn't say anything. I'll admit it, his behaviour was disconcerting enough that I picked Harry up and began to walk into other shops, and he followed me. Finally I grew irritated, and snapped at him, 'Just what do you think you're doing, Severus? Are you trying to frighten me?' He just looked at me and said 'I just wanted to tell you that I didn't know it was about you.'—I have no idea what he was talking about, Professor. What do you suppose he meant by that?" Lily asked. "I was just going to ask him what he meant when he vanished."

"Alas, I'm not certain what Severus was attempting to convey," I replied honestly. "I must warn you to be more cautious when you're out. The world is an increasingly dangerous place to be."

"So James keeps reminding me," she responded and took a bite of the bun before her.

xoxo

Several hours later, after depositing the memory into my Pensieve and studying it, I walked my office in an endless circle. Another hour later, I finally sat in my favourite chair and propped my feet upon the worn footstool. Closing my eyes, I envisioned all the possible implications of Severus' words.

Every crossroad I came to involved the Prophecy Sibyll Trelawney had revealed the evening I hired her. That had been the last time I'd had any word of Snape. He'd been thrown out of the premises after being found eavesdropping at the door.

The Slytherin had quite obviously heard all or a good portion of the Prophecy, and relayed the information to Voldemort. I thought a bit harder about what the Prophecy could possibly mean to Voldemort. I didn't like where my thoughts were taking me.

xoxo

The moon was high in the inky night and clouds played across the pale yellow globe as I walked to Hogsmeade for a few hours of relaxation. High above, the stars shimmered and winked at me. The dew had made the hem of my robe quite damp as I approached the village.

A brush of magic wafted over me. I wasn't particularly alarmed as the northern climes are ripe with innate magic. Yet this magic had an edge of familiarity to it, though nothing defining.

Then there was a shifting in the shadows along the edge of the trees. An indistinct form moved forward cautiously, keeping camouflaged by the filtered moonlight. I could see the glinting of eyes as the shape moved closer to me.

"You said you would listen to me. I have some information that will interest you." I heard the words spoken from the shadows.

"I haven't relinquished the offer, Severus," I replied. "I would welcome the opportunity to talk with you."

Lifting my wand, I called out, "_Lumos_!" A cold white light filled the area around me.

"I'd prefer you to lower your wand," he said with a hint of steel.

My wand remained where it was.

"Your wand–please?" He was trying to be polite, though at the same time his tone was firm.

As my arm fell, the light dimmed.

"Lily told me she'd seen you," I said.

Severus stepped further out into the open space.

"I'm afraid your earlier opinion of me was justified," he began slowly–painfully. "There is something I–someone you need to warn. _He_ is looking for Lily."

"Does this concern what you overheard?" I asked, studying him intently.

"Someone is giving _him_ information. Before you ask; I don't know who it is."

This was something I had suspected for some time; too many things had gone wrong for the Order.

"You have to warn Lily. _He_ has narrowed down his search to those born during one specific week;heis looking at two possible children. I think Lily's child is _the _one. She should hide, and hide _now_," he insisted urgently.

Lily was right; Severus had broken from Voldemort's grip. Knowing Snape, once he decided on something, it was all or nothing.

"What about the other child?"

"I don't know who that one is yet; the Dark Lord is being very secretive in his search."

"Is he aware that you know?"

"No. But I am not without some skill at discovering and keeping secrets."

I studied the young wizard standing not ten feet from me. Though he'd grown, he was still physically slender in build. His hair, never free of grease, hung limply around his face. He wore an austere frockcoat which gave him the appearance of a vicar.

"What will Voldemort do if he learns of your betrayal?"

Wincing, he crossed his arms over his chest. I could see the moonlight glinting off his carefully polished wand.

"What do you think?" he muttered caustically.

"Child..."

"Don't call me that! You never gave a damn about me before, so don't pretend to care about me now. I've given you the information to save some of your precious Gryffindors, use it."

"Severus, if you go back, he will see your thoughts if you're not careful," I warned.

"I'm not going back."

"Where will you go?"

"Somewhere. Anywhere. What does it matter to you? I warned you about Lily. What more do you want from me?" Severus snarled.

"I don't want to think of you running for the rest of your life," I said.

"I've had a lot of experience at running already, Headmaster. From the moment I first stepped onto the Hogwarts Express, I've been running. I'm tired of it."

"Are you just quitting, Severus?" I asked sadly.

He coughed harshly. "I have no desire to die, but logically speaking, I'm probably dead anyway."

"You've a lot to live for."

"What? Rotting in Azkaban?"

Quickly my mind worked through scenarios that might induce him to stay.

"Lily wouldn't want you to run, and she'd fight to keep you out of Azkaban."

His face darkened in anger and bitterness. "Why would she do that? I've thrown every attempt she ever made at kindness back in her face."

"I think the fact that you tried to warn her would be a rather strong motivation," I said seriously. "Lily isn't simple-minded. Yes, she loves James, but she was never blind to his propensity to bully—especially you. In her heart, she knew that you felt you had no option but to shut her out."

"I said a horrible thing to her," he said softly.

"Yet you tried to warn her," I argued. "You may not be aware that Lily came to me because she was worried about her friend. I'm worried about you, too."

Severus stiffened and turned away for several minutes. I heard him take in a deep, shaking breath just before he turned to look at me again.

"You_ know_ I am telling you the truth, Headmaster. Tell her to run and keep running."

A breeze had risen around us, and Severus' expression grew as wild as his windswept hair. The leaves high in the towering tree rustled restlessly. There seemed to be as equal a discontent in Nature as there was in the young wizard.

"I never wanted this to happen to her."

"No, I don't think you did," I agreed.

The young wizard took a hitching breath. His voice cracked as he said, "I- I don't know what to do, Headmaster."

"You don't have to run; you have another choice," I stated empathically. "I can help you."

"The way you always did when I was a student?" he interrupted bitterly. "Thank you, no."

"I'm asking you to give me the opportunity to help you," I said cautiously.

"Why should I? You treated me like something disgusting on the bottom of your shoe!" he cried out painfully. "I was something unwanted in your perfect Gryffindor world."

My heart told me that there was merit in what he was saying. There had to be some way to make him understand that I could and did want to help him.

"If you thought that, you wouldn't be here," I said.

"Perhaps _He _sent me to try to fool you." His voice was thick with the emotions he had always tried to restrain.

"_Did _he send you?"

Wrapping his robes around himself, he laughed gratingly. "No, not this time. He doesn't think anyone is capable of independent thought."

Severus' interpretation of Voldemort didn't surprise me a jot; he'd always been an observer of people, the very habit had made him a target of the Marauders' ire. What I hadn't understood at the time was the complex nature of his personality. Severus Snape was, without a doubt, more of a mystery to me than any other student of his year.

Standing in the autumn night, I came up with a plan of how to help Severus out of the trouble he was in. First, I needed some honest answers about the reasons he'd joined and what he'd done in Voldemort's service before my plan could work.

"Why did you join Voldemort's circle?" I asked. "What would compel an intelligent man like you to follow him?"

I'd always wondered why someone with half a brain would fall under the spell of a despot.

The black eyes regarded me with great intensity.

"Why? I can't speak for anyone else; I can only give you my reasons, Headmaster. None of them will ease your conscience," he said with a sneer. "I suppose the defining moment was discovering my life didn't matter very much to anyone. You made that perfectly clear when you didn't expel Black."

I felt a stab of annoyance at his ability to hold grudges. "You must understand that Sirius was in a very delicate position..."

"Why was my position so much less important than his? Was it because I wasn't a Gryffindor? Was it because I didn't come from an old, established family you were trying to infiltrate? Why? Why was I less important to you than he was?" he asked bitterly.

I was taken aback by what he said. It was true, Severus had been less important to me. My mind had been so consumed with the possibility of having a member of one of the Darkest families joining in the fight against Voldemort that I had turned a blind eye to Sirius' misbehaviours.

"You barely punished Black. How do you think that made me feel? They nearly killed me and they were rewarded," he hissed. "They poisoned everything for me."

"Your fellow Slytherins..." I began.

"They tolerated me because I could help them with their school work. Knowing how to manipulate others is one of Slytherin's attributes, remember?"

I could see that the wizard was unused to baring his emotions.

My throat felt tight as I feebly said, "I can't explain why I treated you differently than I did Sirius and James. It was inexcusable that I ignored what was going on around me. Anything I could say would be a mere excuse for my appalling negligence."

As I spoke, his head dropped and he froze in place. He was surprised to hear me tell him he'd been right and I'd been wrong.

"I can only imagine how you felt having Sirius return after you'd experienced the most wretched of experiences. Alas, I added salt to the wounds by naming James head boy, didn't I? Telling you I'm sorry must seem like too little, too late."

Severus lifted one hand to his eyes before quickly dropping it. He shuddered and looked back up.

"What did _He_ offer you?" I asked gently.

"He offered me something I'd never felt before–the feeling of being included. He made me feel welcome and valued," Severus said softly.

"Do you still feel valued?"

"No. He's using me just as much as everyone else has."

"Have you used the Unforgivables?" I asked, changing tack, suddenly.

He snorted and rubbed his left forearm. "I'm a Death Eater; what do you think?"

"Have you used the Avada Kedavra curse?" I asked.

Severus, shocked by the bluntness of my question, looked at me briefly before dropping his eyes to the ground. His Adam's apple jumped spasmodically and his fists clenched.

"Have you killed anyone?" I repeated.

"Not all the potions I brew are harmless, Headmaster."

My stomach unclenched from the tight knot it had been in since I'd begun this line of questions. He was telling me the unvarnished truth; he hadn't used the Avada Kedavra curse, but he couldn't deny that he was an innocent. A huge weight lifted from my shoulders.

"There is a way out, Severus. The day you were thrown out of the Hog's Head, you were there to secure a position on Voldemort's orders, weren't you? But you heard something before that interview took place. You told him what you heard.

"I can tell you regret having told him what you heard. You could repay that debt, Severus. You have it in you to convince Voldemort that it would still be to his advantage to have you in place at Hogwarts."

An expression of abject horror crossed the Slytherin's face. He sputtered and shook his head in disbelief. "Y-you're insane!"

I looked over the top of my glasses. "Alas, I'm not. I want to try to remedy some of the wrongs that I've done and help you. Once Voldemort falls, the Ministry will be hunting down all Death Eaters. If caught, can you honestly say that your companions wouldn't try to save their own necks by revealing your name? The fact that I've asked you to teach will offer you a certain level of protection. I do have some influence with the Ministry, and the fact that I am offering you my trust would be a very good indication of the faith I have in you."

"I've found trust to be elusive," he interrupted.

"While I can't promise you safety from the Ministry, I'd like to assure you that I will do _everything_ that I can to keep your name from coming to notice. If need be, I will testify on your behalf."

Severus stood and began to pace. "You must want something in exchange?"

"I need information from inside," I answered bluntly.

One eyebrow rose on his forehead. "How do you propose to keep the Dark Lord's mole from learning about me?" he asked pointedly.

This was a very valid concern; if Severus was caught out as a spy for the Order, he would undoubtedly face a very unpleasant end. There was only one way to keep him safe; no one could know about him.

"The only people who will know of our agreement are me and you."

"What if something happens to you?" he asked hesitantly. "There are a lot of people who dislike me."

"You needn't fear that you would be left defenceless or friendless should something happen to me; I will make provision to ensure your safety."

The uncertainty in his face was to be expected; he'd, quite literally, be putting his life in my hands. I felt the need to encourage him further.

"You already have the skill to conceal your thoughts from him, Severus. You have more than just a basic understanding of Occlumency. Voldemort would have found you out a long while ago if you hadn't the ability to shield your inner thoughts from him."

Standing straighter, he had as close to a smug smile on his face as I'd ever seen.

"I don't think a Gryffindor would have taken the huge risk you did when you came to see me. I truly admire your strength of character, your honesty, and your willingness to put your life in my hands. So now you are at a crossroad in your life, Severus. You're looking down two very different paths. Which will you take?"


End file.
